


Transatlanticism

by vimtagerecord



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16033145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vimtagerecord/pseuds/vimtagerecord
Summary: A short book of 2009 phan poems based off of the album Transatlanticism by Death Cab For Cutie





	1. The New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter besides 11 is Dan’s POV

    I hear the clanking of glass against glass & party poppers exploding as bursts of colour erupt from the dark january skies.

    _So this is the New Year_ , I think. I don’t really feel any different, I’m living my life just like before.

    I think more about it for a moment. Everybody has on their best clothes, worth much more money than they can afford. They want to feel wealthy for just  one night. They want to forget, like I do. But the difference between them & myself is that I find it impossible to forget. They give themselves resolutions every year, but I have none; it’s just self-assigned penance, and I have yet to escape it.

    Sometimes I wish the world was flat, just like the old days. That way, all I’d need to travel would be a folding map. I want to gather up my guts so that I can speak to you, but I’m afraid I’d become miserable by thinking about the possible distance between us. Maybe, maybe if the world was flat, there’d be no distance to hold us back.

    So I look back into the crowd. One day, I wonder. But for now, I’ll just mock them, perhaps until we speak.

    This is the New Year, but it doesn’t feel much like it.


	2. Lightness

    We’ve been talking for a few months now. You call me just to tell me about how you ripped your favourite shirt We both laugh at the situation as I sneak glances at the tears near your collarbone. I’m so close to the screen, but too far across the country to touch.

    I try to get my mind off of the situation and reach for the keyboard lying across my bed. The glaring ivory lines lead me as I play a song for you. I wish it wasn’t how it is. I wish something as simple as a poem or song would convince your brain to love. I know you’re torn, quite similar to that plaid shirt you cherished so much.

    It feels like your heart is a river, and your brain is the dam. I’m just the fish trying to swim in, but I can’t reach the core.

    Your heart knows what it wants, but you don’t. You shouldn’t be thinking what you’re feeling, but you can’t differentiate between what your heart wants & what your brain thinks. Oh, how I want that to be so much more different than it is.

    I continue to strike the keys as an attempt to distract us both from our thoughts. That’s the closest I can ever get to breaking through to you.


	3. Title & Registration

    I search through the glove compartment of my car to find the legal documents I need for inspection. Coming up empty handed, I ponder for a while.

 _The glove compartment is innacurately named_ , I think to myself.

   I mean, think about it. Behind that small door, there’s nothing to keep my fingers warm. All that I find are souvenirs from better times; times when I was happier, & times before I met you. I’m not sure if I’d rather relive those moments, because now I can’t possibly imagine a life without you.

    I notice myself sucking into my own head. I want you, but do you want me? You’ve got Him now, but I don’t really believe you love Him like you say you do. I see it in the way you speak about Him. I think you’re in denial of it, but there’s nothing I can really do to change your mind.

    We might be falling apart, and you don’t want to search through the glove compartment of our relationship to find our purpose again.

    I hope you change your mind.


	4. Expo ‘86

    I’m waiting for something to go wrong, or something of familiar resolve. But it doesn’t. You left Him, and left me in awe. I know you’re not ready for this yet, So I’ll give you time. I have waited for so long, and the anticipation has got me glued.

    I’m waiting for something to go wrong, or some sense of awful relief. Still, nothing happens.

    I’m waiting for you to flee the scene, the one where I am still stuck; stuck falling in love with you. But you don’t flee, you stay. I am forever grateful for you.

    Somehow, I think the cycle will never end; somehow, my worries are vanished the moment you tell me you want to meet me.

    But still, there’s the worry something will go wrong. I try not to think about it.


	5. The Sound of Settling

    I’ve got this hunger twisting my stomach into knots. My brain is repeating something I once heard on the television,

    “If you’ve got an impulse, let it out.”

    I can’t for the life of me remember what that’s from, but I settle on taking the advice, so I booked a ticket to piccadilly station today so that we can finally be in each others’ arms.

    This is the sound of settling.

    I feel like my youth is fleeting when I’ve not even reached my 20’s. I hope I can think of something charming to say and not lose you like every other love I had that could have been.  
  
    For you, settling sounds alright.


	6. Tiny Vessels

    You tell me what happened, what happened between you & Him. You thought you loved Him, and told him so, but you didn’t mean it. Your mind was playing tricks on your heart. He was beautiful, but He didn’t mean a thing to you, and that’s why you picked me.

    I worry whether or not it’s the same situation with me; I worry that you don’t like me, and I worry that I don’t mean anything to your heart.

    But my worries are fading as you confess your love to me through the pixelated laptop screen beside me. I pinch my arm to prove to myself that this is real. Nothing happens, so I decide to return the confession.

    I believe every word I am speaking, and I hope you do too.


	7. Transatlanticism

     Leaving your house is harder than I imagine it to be. The moment I board the train, I feel like the Atlantic is between us.

    Distance is so much more unbearable when you’re missing the one you love. The closer I’m being taken back to Reading, the closer you become to my heart, and the more you feel like _my_ _home_ instead of my nearing destination.

    I’ve already booked another ride for next month.

    Once we met, I decided I could never be away from you for so long. The distance is quite simply much too far for me to go, but I still try anyway.

    I need you so much closer.


	8. Passenger Seat

    I roll the window down and breathe in fresh air from the passenger seat as you are driving us home. _Our_   _home_ , or at least that’s what it feels like to me.

    I don’t really see my house as home anymore. Being in yours gives me more comfort than I’ve ever had, but I don’t think you know that yet.

    I gaze up at the shooting stars gliding across _our_ Manchester sky. “Do you think asteroids and satellites collide?” I ask thoughtlessly.

    You just smile at me behind the wheel of new beginnings.


	9. Death of an Interior Decorator

    I had a conversation with my mother the night I returned. She quietly sat on my bed as I was writing. “Can you tell me why you’ve been so sad?” she asked me. It was unexpected, but I couldn’t bear to bring up you & me, so I just told her I was missing someone.

    She pulled me in for a hug without saying a word. I have a feeling she knows.

    It was explained to me, the story of an interior decorator. The story of a woman who thought she’d had it all and that she’d be married happily. Unfortunately, she couldn’t handle it and took her own life.

    Mum worries too much, I now know where I got it from. She thinks I’m becoming too attached, I could hear it in her tone of voice as she told me the story.

    But distance only makes our love stronger.

    She said she doesn’t want me to damage myself, but she just doesn’t quite understand where I am.


	10. We Looked Like Giants

    God bless the daylight, it allows me to see every inch of you in high definition and never fails to disappoint me. I’m here with you as we learn how our bodies work.  
  
    God damn the black night and its curse of not allowing me to see you as clearly as I would like.

    I’ve become what I always hated when I’m with you. We remind me of those cheesy clingy couples I see on the TV. I can’t leave your side without missing you, but it’s only a small inconvenience before we get to see each other again.

    We are fumbling to make contact as your family mindlessly sleeps.

    Together here, you hold me closer than anyone will ever get.


	11. A Lack of Colour

 

_Dan_

_This is a letter from home, feeling a lack of colour as you leave._

_When I see you, I see you upside down. I see every crack & imperfection in both your mind & your body. Any sane person would turn away, but I’m only attracted like a moth to your light. My brain knows better than to dwell on the flaws, for they make you individual._

_If you feel discouraged at the lack of colour sometimes, don’t worry. It’s really only bursting at the seams. Rainbows erupt with your voice, and I am enamoured._

_But every time you leave me, I wonder if staying is worth it, and If I should have given you a reason to stay here with me as well._

_My fears dissipate the moment you kiss me, before you are gone again._

_I reach for the phone to call you as soon as I know you are at the station. You don’t answer, but on your voicemail I leave my plea for you to come back; to come back **home.**_

_I don’t ever want to wait for your train again._


End file.
